


Tuuri's Story

by lwise2019



Series: Mikkel's Story [42]
Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23954077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lwise2019/pseuds/lwise2019
Summary: On the road again, and Tuuri tells Reynir why she came on the expedition.
Series: Mikkel's Story [42]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536739
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Tuuri's Story

**Wrorum! Wwrorourrggh!**

Mikkel, chopping vegetables for lunch, was on his feet, knife raised in defense, before his mind caught up with his body. It was the engine! Tuuri had started it!

Sigrun, who had been leaning against the tank, watching, leapt to her feet, slapping Tuuri on the back hard enough to stagger the much smaller woman.

“I did it!” Tuuri cried in astonishment. “I'm … I'm … so _amazing!_ ” Mikkel smiled a little to himself. Drawing her away from the task, encouraging her to take a break, had worked.

“That is my new favourite sound!” Sigrun added in delight as the engine continued to growl irregularly.

Emil, running forward from his position guarding the tank, asked uncertainly, “Uh, you don't think that sounds … uh … really crappy?”

In an excess of happiness, Sigrun slapped him on the back too, knocking him into the side of the tank. “Yeah, sure, but at least it sounds like _something!_ Every meter it's able to carry us forward is one less meter that we'll be with no shelter.”

Tuuri closed the hood and ran for the door while Sigrun and Emil hurried to take down the awnings and Mikkel gathered up his gear and supplies. Within minutes, the tank was grinding slowly away and nothing was left of their campsite but a drowned campfire. They were on the way again at last, with Mikkel manfully resisting the urge to point out to Sigrun that he was right that they did not need to implement a Plan B.

Not yet, at least.

The rain continued all day, turning to sleet and then to snow by nightfall as the weather turned cold again. As soon as they stopped for the night, Mikkel and Emil set up the awnings to protect the runes and Reynir hastily renewed them. Since they had driven far enough from their previous campsite that they felt safe relying on the perimeter sensors rather than standing watches, Mikkel was able to catch up somewhat on his sleep, though he woke frequently to listen to his teammates' breathing, and his dreams were again nightmares.

The tank broke down again the following day, but Tuuri tackled it with renewed confidence and they were moving again within an hour. This set a disturbing pattern, as the tank broke down again that day, then twice the next day and three times each on the following two. Tuuri was able to get it running each time, but it was obviously a race against time to reach the outpost before the tank failed completely. At least it was still snowing, so they had little trouble with grosslings in the nights.

The radio had failed along with the tank itself, and it was only on the third day that Tuuri managed to track down the short, enabling them to report in. “… and we're presently on course to be there in only a few more days,” Mikkel finished more confidently than he really felt.

“We're very pleased to hear that!” Torbjörn replied, enthusiastic as always. “Some good news after all that happened. Uh … Speaking of which, … any update on what level of, uh, medical attention we should tell the ship to prepare for?”

Mikkel regretted that Tuuri, peacefully eating her supper beside him, could understand Icelandic. He would have preferred that she not hear such discussions. “Still only quarantine and general injury treatment. I will inform you immediately if the situation changes.” Without looking at Tuuri, he added, “One way or another, we will know soon enough.”

Mikkel glanced around, considering conditions in the tank. Sigrun was dozing in her bunk. Emil and Lalli were in the back compartment with Reynir, having taken him his supper and then, under orders from Mikkel, remained to keep him company for a few hours as it was not good for him to be alone for so long. Although the three young men lacked any language in common, the team _had_ made some efforts at teaching each other their languages, and Mikkel hoped they would pick up that project. Or perhaps they could just have a snowball fight. It seemed there was nothing more to be reported about the team's situation, but another question had to be asked.

“How is the state of the older Hotakainen?” He suspected that was another painful subject since Onni had still been unconscious at their last radio communication, and had not joined this one.

“Not worse. The doctor still stops by every morning for a check-up. And he's yet to find anything physically wrong with the poor sod. All we can do is hope for best now.”

 _Would_ Onni ever wake up? Mikkel glanced over at Tuuri, who was very obviously concentrating on her supper. Could a mage die from overuse of magic? Did he dare ask?

His thoughts were interrupted by shouting from the back compartment. “How can you just sit in here doing _nothing_ and not go _insane!_ ” Reynir cried. “I _can't_ go out there looking for that woman! Don't you understand that you're the only one who can?

“If we don't find her neither of us can go home without those things following us! We can't let that happen! I _won't_ let that happen!”

Mikkel signed off abruptly. He needed to intervene … there was the sound of a scuffle, then Emil: “Okay, let's … all calm down and not act insane …”

Emil acting as peacekeeper? Mikkel stopped at the door, frowning. Go back and break it up, or let the young men work out their differences alone?

“Tuuri!” Lalli called, following with a spate of Finnish. She replied in kind and then went on in Icelandic, “Oh, okay. Hi, Reynir! What are you yelling at Lalli about?”

“Tell him I dreamed of a woman, an old dead priestess lady, who can lead souls to where they belong in the afterlife. I know – I _know_ – she's the only one who can save us from these ghosts. He knows they'll follow us forever. I'm sure they told him so just like they told me. He must have heard them. We have to find her. We have to find her temple. And I can't go out there looking for it! He _has_ to find it! For both of us! For _all_ of us!” By the time he finished he was shouting again.

“Okay, okay, let me tell him.” She continued in Finnish, and then translated Lalli's answers called through the door.

“He said he knows about the ghosts but he thinks he can resist them. And he said he doesn't know anything about how to find some old woman, or any place where old ancient women would be, whatever that means. Oh, and then he said he can't help you.”

“Of course he did. _Everyone_ says they can't help me.”

“Maybe … maybe I can help you?”

“You can't help me,” Reynir answered dolefully.

“Hmph. Do you need to talk then?”

“No, it's fine.”

“You need to talk! Tomorrow, when you're not in a mood.”

“Okay.”

Mikkel stepped back, deciding that he should not intervene and feeling a need to scrub the supper dishes. He was hardly started on that task when Emil and Lalli climbed into the tank, and the Swede approached him, shame-faced.

“Mikkel, you … ah … should probably go check on Reynir. Lalli sort of … bit him. And I, well, I punched him. Not too hard! I just wanted him to let go of Lalli! He was shaking him and yelling at him, and scaring him …”

“You know, I wanted you to keep him company, not get in a brawl with him.”

“He started it!”

From what Mikkel had heard, he believed that was probably true, so he merely nodded, collected his first aid kit, and went to the back compartment.

“You want to tell me about it?” he asked, examining Reynir's bruised cheek and then pulling up his sleeve to check the bite. Lalli had not drawn blood, but the Icelander had very clear tooth-marks on his fair skin.

“No – I – I just couldn't stand it anymore. I _can't_ go out there and look for her. He can, but he won't.

“Oh, maybe he couldn't find her anyway. I don't even know what her temple looks like today. I think I see it as she sees it, the way it was when she was … alive.

“But I feel like I would recognize it if I saw it, no matter how much it had changed. I would know it …”

“So, then, tell me about the temple.”

“It was a huge room with a very high peaked ceiling and many big arched windows. It was so full of light … and there were benches, high-backed benches, rows and rows of them facing away from the door, on two sides of an aisle. At the end of the room was a … hmm … a cabinet, I guess, and there was a bunch of pipes running up the wall behind it. On the cabinet was a cloth with a symbol on it, kind of like a T –”

“Wait, a symbol like this?” Mikkel drew it on the floor with a finger.

“Yes, like that! You know what it is?”

“That's a cross. It's a Christian symbol. You were in a Christian church.”

“Ah! Does that help? Do you know where a Christian church would be?”

“Unfortunately, yes. They're all over the place. There were many Christian churches here. There's probably one or more in every town we've passed.”

“Oh.” Reynir's hopeful expression faded. “Onni said something like that, I guess. But then … even if Lalli did go looking for her temple – her church that is – he wouldn't know which church was the right one.”

He sat back, leaning his head against the wall in despair. Mikkel hesitated, then packed up his things. “I'm sorry I'm not more help. Those bruises will heal quickly, I think.” And he made his escape, back to the main compartment.

Late that evening, in the close quarters of the tank, sitting in the front watching the snowfall, Mikkel with his sharp ears still heard Tuuri and Reynir talking as they sat back to back with the wall between them, Tuuri on Mikkel's bunk and Reynir on a crate.

"Sooo ... you're sad, huh?" Tuuri began.

"Sure. I guess."

“It's a bit odd hearing you like that,” she observed, “ You haven't come across as one of those pessimistic people so far.”

“Yeah, it's .. new. I've never had to feel like this. Like someone who has to figure something out alone. It's making my thoughts … bad. I tried to find the old priestess lady but I couldn't, and your brother said that sometimes there's just no help for bad things because the world is a terrible place.

“And after talking with him, and thinking about what he said, I'm just feeling less and less hopeful that I'll be able to fix anything. Maybe _thinking_ is the problem; maybe I'm not suited for that.”

“Heh, it's so weird, that you've been able to talk with my brother, when I'm stuck here on the other side of the coma.” She paused, and then turned in alarm as if to face Reynir. “You didn't tell him what happened to me, did you?”

“O – of course not!”

“Good. That's good. He shouldn't know until it's over, and we know that I'm in the clear. Or not. Either way, he doesn't cope well with uncertainty. This is better.”

“But what about you? You're the one that's in the 'uncertain' situation. How are you not more worked up about it? _I_ for one wish I had just listened to my parents and never left home, ever. Don't you regret coming out here too, now that you know?”

Tuuri considered for a long moment before replying.

> Not really. It's been my dream to go on an adventure like this ever since I can remember. This is the one opportunity I've been given! Without it … I would have just gone out on my own eventually, I'm sure of it.
> 
> Which probably wouldn't have ended well either!
> 
> I remember wishing so hard to see the outside world, even way back, years and years ago … back when I was little. But of course where I lived only those who were immune could leave the town freely, which was only a few people. In our family, only my grandma and Lalli were. Grandma was also one of the first mages around, and she'd leave the island often to handle nearby troll reports. Eventually she started taking Lalli with her for training, and I was _so jealous!_
> 
> She was real strict with him – she was strict with all of us, even my mom and dad, whenever she was home, but she was most strict with him. Still, I wouldn't have minded if she was strict with me, if only I could have gone with her.
> 
> Mom and Dad were always busy – they worked so hard! – and so Onni always took care of me, ever since I was tiny, almost like he was my dad too.
> 
> I told him once – but _only_ once – how much I wanted to steal a boat and go explore another island with him. He shouted at me and made me cry, because he said horrible things would happen to us. I thought he was a coward, and I said so. That was cruel of me, I know now, but I didn't know then, and he told me that there were … _things_ … out there that he could hear and I couldn't. Terrible things.
> 
> He didn't understand – he _still_ doesn't understand – why I would want to leave in the first place. Wherever we are, he thinks we have everything we would ever want. Everything … except the world.
> 
> So that's what I've been dealing with my whole life. But I knew one day I'd be able to do what _I_ wanted … and so in a way I feel like I was _destined_ to end up on this expedition. It was just _too_ perfect of an opportunity. 

“Maybe you should try to think about your situation that way too,” she added, “You'll feel better!”

“R – right. Well, except … I really never wanted to go to anywhere dangerous. All I wanted to do was visit Bornholm. And now I'm here.”

“Oh. Right. I completely forgot about that part. Well, now you'll have to keep up your spirits and make sure to get back safely, so that you can try again.”

“Heh, yeah, I guess so. But if I get home I'm _never_ leaving again! And I'll let everyone know that there's just as much rain and snow this far south anyway.

“And that there are no palm trees at all!”


End file.
